


Closer Than Yesterday

by deftone



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Other, Slow Romance, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22252948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deftone/pseuds/deftone
Summary: "Din was not the one to admit the fact that he was craving normal human interaction, lacking in deals, payments, jobs, plans. He craved something real, a warming touch when everything was covered in the coldness of his beskar."
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 204





	Closer Than Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> My Star Wars obsession is still alive after many years and it's consuming me once again. I got two sweethearts but decided to first post something for The Husbandolorian. I am sorry for any possible grammar mistakes or for the feeling that it might be too rushed.

_You were not working for him, you were working with him._

The first time you heard those words coming from the Mandalorian in order to correct someone's incorrect assumption has caught you off guard. Din gradually started to share his space, ship, weapons, plans with you. It has already become a partnership and not a deal, how it all started. Even The Child clung onto both of you, feeling security and care more than ever, being a profound approval. Contrary to what he experienced, the bounty hunter found your presence quite helpful but distracting because of reasons he did not understand.

Between the two of you, a set of rules were silently and indirectly established while working together. Most of them were just some of your habits that he observed after some days. Din noticed how you would always go to sleep somewhere else in the Razor Crest, how you would find something for him to eat and leave him alone with it, how you never insisted on exposing his identity like the others. It felt comfortable to have someone who does not persist on seeing what is under his heavy helmet. You were more than curious to know but respected him too much to ever ask or talk about taking it off in front of you.

Today, after another arduous job, Din was not in his best shape. His armor felt heavier on his shoulders and chest, his body more encased and weakened. Even now when he was seated on the cold floor of the ship and resting while cleaning some of his weapons in silence, he felt drowsy.

“Are you feeling alright?” You asked when you observed the unusual shifting of his body.

The sound of your voice was able to keep him steady. At first, it was confusing how you could just sense when he was not feeling well and now after many experiences, Din was not seeing the point of hiding the state he was in.

“Not really. I feel like I’m burning up.” He explained briefly and to the point like when he talked to a stranger, only wanting to avoid worrying you. “I can handle it alone.”

Hearing those words as a response only made you look deep where you assumed his eyes were. It was frustrating how so many things could be seen as a reflection on the visor of his helmet. The moon, the stars, the light from his ship, but never his eyes. Those times in which you were staring and searching for him, Din could still feel exposed like there was a slim chance for you to see him. Somehow, your eyes were directed right into his without knowing it. It was always just a strange feeling he had. He could swear that sometimes you could see right through his helmet even if his logic was denying the fact strongly.

Having in mind what he said and seeing the way he carried himself through the day made you worry about his health. You had to make sure there was nothing wrong but there was no way of saying what you had in mind in a proper manner.

Nobody could truly explain what happened next.

“Then I'm afraid that I have to ask you to take off your helmet.” You said sternly and out of the blue.

The Mandalorian almost dropped the blaster he was fixing from his hands in shock. Exhausted after many days filled up with different jobs and now this? The demand he thought to never hear from you finally came in such an awful juncture, almost causing him an instant headache.

“Why?” He asked coldly, already tensing up but still waiting to know what your explanation was.

“How am I supposed to check your temperature with it on?” You responded but with another question. The situation was not to your liking either.

There was not a hidden purpose in your demand, you just wanted to check the issue before it got worse. He could see it on your face, knowing that familiar worried expression far too well. Before answering, Din looked over the Child for a second only to see him sleeping peacefully in his crib. It has become a reflex.

“You don't have to, it will be fine.” He explained in a slightly silent tone not to wake the Child, not looking at you.

Everyone knew how capable he was but in the same time, his voice was never convincing enough when he was alone with you. After remaining in silence and letting his words sink in, you slowly left the cockpit without a response. Din continued to fix his weapons, already questioning if he was bitter to you for no reason. As an answer, after some minutes, the sound of your footsteps could be heard and could make an overthinking bounty hunter relax. You inhaled deeply and cleared your throat just like at the start of an announcement, making him curious.

Din raised his eyes to you and saw how yours were covered by a dark cloth and your steps towards him were slow and tentative. Almost immediately, he knew what your idea was.

“If I am not allowed to see your face, is there anything said against touching it?” You asked trying to explain your intention even if he already got the idea.

“No.” He answered in a long and heavy sigh. Not if it was you who did it.

He watched you cautiously stepping closer, asking himself why were you so stubborn when it came to his own well-being and why he was not able to lie to you.

“Where are you, Din?” You asked tenderly even if he was right in front of you.

The way that simple question echoed in his mind made him realize that he could always reach you while you were still searching for him, Din Djarin, day by day.

Such an absurd idea was against what he swore, but it could work. You were always helping him with his injuries and this act had to be the same, purely medical. This was the only reason he could find.

From where he was seated, Din reached for your right hand, pulling it closer and placing it on his right shoulder, on top of his Mudhorn signet. It was the distinctive sign that you adored, belonging to a clan of two, a deep connection between the Mandalorian and the Child that anyone could see from the start. Whenever you were losing focus, a single glance at that signet was enough to get you back on track. Still feeling your palm covering the cold signet, you lowered yourself on the floor of the ship, in front of him. There have been numerous times in which you were this close to each other but now it felt even more profound and cordial.

“Wait.” He stopped you. His gloved hand caught your chin and slightly raised your face in order to check if that cloth was tight enough over your eyes, not leaving space below for your vision. Then, he checked if the material was dense enough. It the end, it looked safe after his investigation. He inhaled deeply, and he took off his helmet with slow movements, still doubtful and anxious about the way his heart was racing. “You can move closer.”

Your mind stopped and your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice not being modulated anymore. The sudden clearness of his voice was now locked in your mind. Din gently wrapped his fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands closer and guiding them towards his face. The feeling of his breathing on your palms reminded you what was really happening.

It was the first time seeing you in front of him, clearly, without any filter the visor of the helmet was adding to your image. If he could only satisfy the longing feeling to run a hand through your hair to memorize the smoothness of it, or simply touch your cheeks with his fingertips.

As your skin met his, your mind was already quick to catch on some details of his face. The first thing you could feel was a stubble that pleasantly surprised you. Higher on one of his cheeks, a scar was changing the texture of his skin. At this point the purpose of this action was almost forgotten.

It is said that when one sense is blocked, the others tend to get sharper, but you were sure how the real reason for feeling everything at such magnitude was because he was so close to you.

The gentle touches resembled caresses, something he did not have the chance to feel in years.

Your hands were warmer than he imagined and even through your touch he could feel how careful you were with him, all the time. Maybe it was your mind tricking you but you could feel him leaning into your touch a little before stopping himself. Din was looking straight at the blindfold after realizing what he did. He was not asking himself if you could see anything but thinking if that is how you felt about not seeing his eyes. The Mandalorian looked away at that thought.

Trying to distract himself from any other unnecessary thoughts, Din parted his lips when his mind suddenly reminded him about the existence of some sort of device that could measure his temperature in just a matter of seconds somewhere on his ship. However, not a single word came out from his mouth about it.

His face felt warm under the palms of your hands but not in an alarming way that would indicate a fever. Even so, you did not stop there. Curiosity was torturing you with every detail of his face you discovered but yet, your devotion was stopping you from doing anything stupid. Your fingers ghosted higher over his temples and settled on his forehead.

“You're frowning. Is there something wrong?” You asked breaking the silence, feeling one deep wrinkle formed between his tensed eyebrows.

“Nothing to worry about.” He said after clearing his throat and trying to get rid of the tension from his body.

Nothing could make him understand why he accepted this in the first place or why he was trusting you so. Why all that he wanted at that moment was to close his eyes and let himself melt into your touch? Din was not the one to admit the fact that he was craving normal human interaction, lacking in deals, payments, jobs, plans. He craved something real, a warming touch when everything was covered in the coldness of his beskar. With every move, it was getting more difficult to handle the shivers that ran down his spine. Without his helmet, he started to be more aware of his breathing, and how it changed its rhythm. He got too used to the safety of that helmet and how it was capable to hide his reactions. This could not go on any longer.

“Haven't seen someone check the temperature for this long.” He started.

“Probably not, I'm sorry for that.” You said slowly retrieving your hands from his face. “You're fine, but overworked. Please, take care and rest.”

Before you could back up, right before leaving his personal space, Din reached for your hands once again, only to pull your fingertips against his lips.

“Thank you.” He whispered looking at you while doing it.

The gesture was not planned at all, unfamiliar by its spontaneous nature and level of trust for him.

Later on, you laid back in a chair from the cockpit being careful enough not to slip a word about what happened. Closing your eyes and replaying the whole scene in your mind, you slowly drifted, falling asleep even in that uncomfortable position. In the chair that was next to yours was Din, piloting. After looking over his shoulder to check on you and seeing you being asleep, he put the ship into cruise mode.

Getting up from his seat only to put a blanket over your body, he stayed by your side a little longer and looked at your sleeping figure with a tightening feeling in his chest. Once again, he could not follow his wish to plant a kiss on your forehead at that moment. The risk for you to wake up and see him was too high. The only thing that he could do was to take off his gloves and grasp your right hand, running his thumb over your knuckles in slow circles.

“Soon enough, you will get closer.” He whispered for both of you, still holding onto your hand.


End file.
